The air is beautiful tonight
The glow of bedroom’s morning light
For tween the black and navy sleeps
Insomnia, where men count sheep.
And wind blows; crashes gainst’ the chimes
As this girl searches for her rhymes
And plans the naps backstage of blacks;
While Ghost Light watches, wary.
Her eyes are aching, mouth is gaping
Yawning silent from her quilt
And as tomorrow’s hours haunt her
Resolutions wane and wilt
The world tilts sideways; visions? Blurry
Two hours till the clock tocks eight
Pillows. Cotton. Coffee forgotten.
Stay up all night? Nope.
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